


Live Life As It Happens

by Kennel_Boy



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, M/M, Orion Syndicate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 17:17:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19213978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kennel_Boy/pseuds/Kennel_Boy
Summary: Billy Rocks is a runaway, property of the Orion Syndicate. Goodnight Robicheaux is Starfleet security, and never could mind his own business. They share an unlikely meeting, and an even more unlikely life together.





	1. Stars In His Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: [Prequel to Lazaefiar's Star Trek AU response to one of my prompt fills.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16429490/chapters/41468108) Ah, fandom. It's the gift that keeps on giving. XD
> 
> This is an indulgent little story for me - I'll likely be updating it in snippets and out of order. But you're welcome to read along. :)

The first time Goodnight Robicheaux set eyes on Billy Rocks, there was a bar fight in progress.

Ordinarily, the brawl wouldn’t have bothered Goodnight one bit. Hell, one of the perks of shore leave on a non-Federation station was that the odds of seeing actual excitement went up considerably. But on this particular occasion, he had been looking for a dark corner in which to nurse both a stiff drink and a bruised heart in peace. The dull smack of bare-knuckle punches landing and the accompanying encouragement of the other bar patrons drew his unwilling attention away from tending his small garden of miseries…

And he found himself watching as the most striking man he’d ever set eyes on held his ground against three Orions, all of which were at least a head taller and half a foot broader than their target. Those were long odds, and taking a second look at the human at the center of the trouble shook the stars out of Goodnight’s eyes right quick. The man was so thin that his cheekbones looked ready to cut through his skin. His long, dark hair was matted, his clothing torn, and there was some kind of mottled discoloration along his bare arms - livid bruising, maybe burns. The restraint marks at his wrists, though, those were unmistakable. And so was the desperation on his face - this wasn’t a simple bar brawl, this man was going to die before he yielded. 

Goodnight’s sidearm was on board the _Reeves_ , but he didn’t need a phaser to make himself handy in a fight. He didn’t ask permission to cut in to this particular dance, just ducked in from the side and let his fist connect with a green-skinned face.

The Orions were down and groaning seconds later, but the stranger stopped paying them any heed the moment they hit the floor. His eyes had fixed on Goodnight’s red Starfleet tunic. He finally met Goodnight’s eyes, a drowning man who’d just glimpsed a liferaft.

“My name is Billy Yi,” he managed. He was speaking Fed standard, but it sounded rusty as hell, as if he wasn’t sure he was fitting the words together right. “I don’t belong to them. My parents were Federation citizens.”

There was a whole story in those few words, and if they’d been on a Federation station, Goodnight would have escorted this Billy Yi to the nearest security office to get it untangled that much quicker. But they were out of their jurisdiction, and the Orion Syndicate had a long reach and deep influence out here. In the time it took to get Federation law involved in this mess, Yi could easily be back the hands of the people who’d brutalized him.

(And anyone who actually believed that crap about the Orions being a neutral presence in the sector could see him about buying swampland on Vulcan.)

Goodnight nodded. “Goodnight’s my name. I can help, if you’ll trust me.”

A bitter shred of a smile caught on Billy's bloodied lips. “I don’t think I’ll get a better offer today.”


	2. Safe Haven

The first part of Goodnight’s plan hinged on Emma Cullen being willing to transport him back aboard ship suspiciously early. That was the best way he knew to get them back on the _Reeves_ with minimal questions (on the front end, at least). 

Billy was already tense as pulled wire when Goodnight called for a beam up. The assessing gaze of the lieutenant commander didn’t do a damn thing to put him at ease either; his eyes flicked to the doorway and corridor beyond within an instant of their materializing on the transporter pad.

“It’s all right,” Goodnight murmured, soft and easy, like he was back in Louisiana, trying to calm a skittish horse. “You’re on the _USS Bass Reeves_. Shiny new Peacemaker class, less than a year out of dock.” He couldn’t help but let a little pride shine through on that point. “I promise you, Billy, there’s no safer place for you in all the quadrant right now.”

Billy hesitated, then nodded slowly. “All right. Sorry. I… last time I was on a Federation vessel, I was too young to remember much of it.”

“Goodnight,” Emma cut in, “who is this?”

Something wild and dangerous flickered in Billy’s eyes at that tone of authority, and Goodnight saw that it cost him something to restrain himself.

“I’m William Yi,” he said, voice now calm nearly to the point of being lifeless. “My parents were Federation citizens. I’ve been illegally held by the Orion Syndicate since I was a child and I…” He faltered. “I need your help. Please.”

The anger on Emma’s face could have leveled a mountain and Goodnight didn’t need to guess why. The name Billy had just dropped was synonymous with slavery, exploitation, smuggling, and half a dozen other unsavory activities sector-wide. 

“I think our friend here is asking for asylum, sir,” Goodnight said. “At least until we can verify his story.” He was proud of his calm, given how close he felt to spitting fire himself. Now that Billy or William or whatever he wanted to call himself was safely aboard ship, what Goodnight most wanted was to head back onto that station and see how tough those Orions felt when they were looking at the business end of a phaser. 

But that wouldn’t help Billy right now, would it?

“I’ll inform the captain that we have an asylum request,” Emma said. “In the meantime, Mister Yi, you look like you could use a trip to sickbay. Goodnight, see that he’s comfortable. I imagine Captain Garret will want to speak to both of you.”

Goodnight breathed a relieved, “Aye, sir. Right away,” then flashed a victorious grin at Billy as he lead the way out into the corridor Billy had been considering as an escape route. There had never been a doubt in his mind that Emma would be anything but sympathetic to Billy’s plight… but depending on how-by-the-book things had gone, Billy might have been stuck on that station for a while. And the quicker he was beyond the reach of the Orions, the better.

“C’mon now. The _Reeves_ may be the safest ship in the quadrant, friend, but I’m taking you to the safest haven in the whole damn galaxy.”


	3. Red Harvest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Red having the full name "Red Harvest North" comes from [Lapin's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lapin/pseuds/Lapin) modern AU series _[What If I'm Far From Home?](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1218621)_ Used with permission and much gratitude. :)

Billy’s first impression of the ship had been identical to his first impression of the station - too bright and too cold, with too many eyes looking his way. The same survival instincts that had been screaming danger at him ever since he’d crawled off the Antaran ship were telling him to run, hide, find some unseen spot where he could rest and regain his strength. 

There was a sharper edge to that fear now. A fear that came of seeing other humans for first time since Nage had ordered his mother killed, of being within inches of a freedom that could be lost if he put a foot wrong. If he couldn’t prove who he was, if they didn’t believe him, then…

“And here we are.”

Billy remembered to breathe as he followed Goodnight into a large, open room. Diagnostic beds and their associated med displays lined the walls. All the Starfleet personnel moving among the beds were in blue - he supposed those were the doctors. Standing tallest among them was a broad-shouldered human with a thick braid hanging down his back - or, at least Billy was fairly sure the figure was human. His skin was a shade of warm, living bronze Billy had only seen in the dust-rimed sunrises of a moon-resort his mistress had favored. Were his people so colorful? It had been so long, he couldn’t remember.

“Billy Yi,” Goodnight said, “meet our CMO, Doctor Red Harvest North. Doc, I got a patient for you.”

The man glanced up at the introduction. His dark eyes assessed Billy for about three heartbeats, then he pointed to one of the beds.

“You. On the pallet.” His gaze snapped over to Goodnight as Billy lay himself down the nearest bed. “You. Explain.”

“We’ve got a hand-on-heart mission of mercy here, doc.” Goodnight’s voice held that same easy-going charm Billy had heard in the transporter bay, but there was something else about him, maybe the way he stood at-ease, but always at a point where Billy could put Goodnight between himself and the rest of the world without much trouble. Whatever it was, it blunted the sharpest edge of his fear. “Mister Yi here has just escaped the tender custody of Orion slavers.”

The doctor’s gaze sharpened. He looked up from his tricorder and focused on Billy. “Is that were those plasma burns came from?”

“I stowed away on a _kaungha_ -class freighter,” Billy said. His stomach was tight again; would they give him back to Nage for that criminal admission? “The access ports to the jump vents were big enough to hide in, near enough the engines that the internal sensors wouldn’t pick up my heat signature.”

“You’re lucky you weren’t cooked.” The doctor studied the diagnostic display for a moment, then nodded at Goodnight. “Do you want him here?”

Billy couldn’t think of why he’d ask, but nodded immediately and sat up. “Let him stay.”

“All right.” The doctor folded his arms over his chest. “You’re going to have to go into quarantine immediately, since we all know damn well you bypassed normal procedure. While you’re there, we’ve got those burns and a host of bruises and abrasions to tend to, on top of getting you fed and hydrated. Longer term, I’ll want to do some osteoregen therapies on your legs. I’m seeing some old fractures that didn’t heal right. Looks like you’re moving around well enough, but I’d imagine they’re causing you pain.” 

“She had the surgeon break them, then set it wrong,” Billy murmured. “Not enough to ruin me, but putting weight on them feels like knives in the bone. She didn’t think I’d be able to run away.” His heart was pounding in his ears, and that was strange because he was mostly feeling relief. One more member of this Starfleet crew was talking like it was already a foregone conclusion that he’d be staying.

He might actually be safe.

The doctor was talking to Goodnight now. They both sounded a long way off.

“Does the captain know he’s on board?”

“He and Sam are being filled in as we speak. I’ll be getting called in to explain myself sooner rather than later, I reckon.”

“If they need medical testimony, I want to be there.”

A wave of disorientation sent the world sideways, set the diagnostics beeping shrilly. Billy had just enough presence of mind to think he should lie back down as his vision greyed at the edges, but not quite enough time put that thought into action. The last thing he remembered was someone calling his name as he fell.


	4. Lone Survivor

It wasn’t any sort of insult to observe that Sam Chisolm and Goodnight Robicheaux were unlikely friends. Sam had fast-tracked his way up the command ladder in record time, was the youngest first officer in the fleet (damn near the youngest one in Starfleet history), and had a record of service that was nearly spotless. What faded stains were on said record were 1) from his academy days and 2) all involved Goodnight. Goodnight, by comparison, was a fine security officer, but unlikely to rise through the ranks. The man had half a dozen reprimands on record (albeit with recommendations for leniency), and was perversely proud of each one. 

Looking at Goodnight’s earnest and oh-so-innocent expression now, Sam couldn’t help but feel there was another reprimand incoming. But at least that wasn’t his immediate responsibility.

Captain Edward Garret looked up from the medical report in front of him, then lowered the PADD to the desk. Sam was a great admirer of his CO’s unassailable calm, but the absolute precision of his movements gave away just how sorely the captain’s poise was being tested. 

Sam expected that had relatively little to do Goodnight violating procedure, and more to do with their CMO’s findings.

“Have we been able to confirm that this ‘William Yi’ is who he claims to be?” Captain Garret asked.

Goodnight and Red Harvest were seated in front of the captain’s desk. Goodnight was projecting what Sam would have bet his next promotion was an entirely deceptive calm. Red Harvest wasn’t bothering with pretense; there were stormclouds in his eyes and he looked as if he could have happily violated the Hippocratic Oath, given an excuse.

“He said he was just a kid last time he was on one of our ships,” Goody supplied. “He couldn’t tell me much. The doc managed to fill in some of the gaps, though.”

Red Harvest sent his collected findings to Garret from his own PADD. 

“His DNA and retinal scans are both on record. He’s 27 years old, born on Earth. Parents are Stephanie Yi and Kim Ye-jun, both Federation citizens. Last transport of record was the colony ship _SS De Long._ Last known word from the family was to Kim’s sibling, transmitted from the Bell colony on Allura 7-9, stardate 106976.71.”

One name on that list rang brought forth a sharp, disquieting memory.

“Wait a minute. The Allura colonies were all wiped out.” Sam frowned and brought Red’s findings up for himself. He’d been young when it had happened, still a kid, but the tragedy of the Allura settlements had been on all the news feeds for weeks after the discovery had been made.

“Right you are,” Goodnight said, the edges of his words just a bit too sharp for the drawl he was affecting. “Unexpected atmospheric bombardment. Solar flares interfered with their equipment, and they couldn’t get a distress signal through the interference in time. And yet, miraculously, a lone survivor of a planetary catastrophe sits in our sickbay.”

“After spending the last twenty years being tortured by Orions,” Red added, thunder building in his voice. “Captain, this man has been through pure hell…”

“I read your initial report doctor, thank you.” Garret drummed his fingers along the sleek, jet surface of the desk. “What kind of shape is he in right now? Can he answer questions?”

“He collapsed right after j.g. Robicheaux brought him to me,” said Red Harvest. “He’s in quarantine now, being treated for dehydration, plasma burns, and general exhaustion in the immediate. He was coming around when we left.” 

“We?” It was technically a inquiry, but Sam was looking directly at Goodnight as he put the question mark on the word.

Goodnight frowned. “I’m the only friendly face the man knows on this ship, sir. Figured it’d be a kindness to be there when he woke up.”

“Then consider that your post for the time being, lieutenant. I’m going to take advice on the situation we’ve got developing.” Garret considered the PADD again, but Sam could read his captain well by now. He wasn’t lying about asking Starfleet higher ups to weigh in, but he was most likely considering an earful of recommendations of his own.

“The asylum request seems straight-forward enough,” the captain went on. “That shouldn’t be an issue. What we need from Mister Yi is information on what happened to the rest of the colonists.”

Sam nodded. “I’ll conduct the debriefing once Doctor North says he’s able to answer questions. Though, like Goodnight said, he was a child when all of this happened. I don’t expect he’ll be able to give us much.”

“I’m inclined to agree. But he might not be the only one of our people still out there. Whatever answers he can give us will be more than we had before. If he can’t remember on his own, Counselor Horne might be able to help.” The captain nodded at the three of them. “All right, that’s all for now. Sam, take the bridge. Goodnight, Doctor, keep me informed.”

“Yes, sir.”

And then Goodnight was out the door faster than strictly dignified. Not that Sam blamed him for clearing out. He’d get his due dressing down eventually. But, for now, they had a mystery that took precedence.


End file.
